


Captured in the Mansion

by Cantatrice18



Category: Matilda (1996), Matilda - Roald Dahl
Genre: Assault, Gen, Rescue, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Matilda and Ms. Honey hadn't made it out of Trunchbull's house after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured in the Mansion

The sound of the Trunchbull’s laughter sent chills down Matilda’s spine, even as she huddled out of sight in the upstairs bathroom. She and Miss Honey had gotten separated in their rush to flee the headmistress's wrath. Now that evil chuckle could mean only one thing – Miss Honey had been caught. Sure enough, Matilda heard a soft cry of pain, and the hiss of the Trunchbull’s voice as her murmur carried from the stairwell. “Oh Jenny, this is a surprise. Never thought I’d see you back in this house, not after you tried so hard to leave it. Does that mean you’ve reconsidered my…proposition?”

There was a pause and Matilda heard a whisper so quiet that she could not make out the words. When the Trunchbull spoke again her voice had lost its gleeful quality, and now boiled with suppressed rage. “Well, I’m afraid it doesn’t matter what you want. You’ve broken into my house, committed a federal crime – I could have you arrested in the blink of an eye, but I’d rather punish you for your indiscretions myself.”

Matilda tiptoed to the bathroom door and cautiously peered out. The sight before her made her heart stand still. Miss Honey was stretched out face down on the floor, with the Trunchbull beside her. The Headmistress had one knee pressed against the small of Miss Honey’s back, forcing the young woman’s spine to arch, and her long dirty nails were tangled in Miss Honey’s hair. Matilda watched in horror as the Trunchbull yanked Miss Honey’s head back, then leaned forward to whisper ominously into her ear. “I’m going to make you pay for everything you’ve done, every minute you’ve spent away from me since you fled this house like a spineless coward. It’s time you paid me back for all those years of putting up with you as a child, feeding and clothing you when you were nothing more than a disgusting little rat. I realize now that you owe me more than just your wages.” Ms. Trunchbull’s free hand traced along Miss Honey’s shoulder, leaving a bright red scratch, before wrapping around the woman’s neck. Miss Honey’s gasp was abruptly cut off, and Matilda could take no more. A lamp yanked free of the screws attaching it to the wall and flew at the headmistress’ head. Ms. Trunchbull threw up her arm just in time to protect her face, letting Miss Honey drop to the floor once more as she caught the offending object mid-flight. She glared at the lamp, then around the room as though daring any other object to come near her. Matilda needed no encouragement. First the doorknobs to every room began to rattle, then the doors themselves, and soon it seemed as though the whole house had begun to shake. Matilda could tell that Trunchbull was getting nervous, but the woman planted her feet firmly and glowered. “You’ll not frighten me with stupid tricks. Come out where I can see you, or you’ll regret it. Trespassers must be punished!” 

With these last words she gave Miss Honey a sharp kick, and Matilda’s rage reached an unprecedented level. Gone were her inhibitions, her fear of punishment or consequences. Ms. Trunchbull had harmed the only person ever to take an interest in Matilda’s well being, and she would pay for it. As though in a choreographed dance, every small object in the house rose into the air and pelted towards the Trunchbull, dodging doors and other items in their singular pursuit of their target. The Trunchbull shrieked and ran for the stairs, all the while being bombarded by flashlights, bars of soap, and the like. A candlestick gave her a sharp rap on the kneecap halfway down the stairs, and she dropped like a stone, hitting every step with a thud until she lay on the entryway floor below. Matilda walked out of the bathroom and gazed over the stair railing to the floor far below. The many objects circled above Ms. Trunchbull like vultures, waiting for the kill. Far above them, the chandelier began to shake, its crystals tinkling as they collided with one another. Slowly, with a creak, the whole thing began to pull loose from its moorings. Matilda’s eyes were narrowed, her mouth curved into a vindictive smile. So lost was she in her own hatred and anger that she barely felt the hand that clutched at her, or heard the voice calling her name. It was only when she felt warm arms embrace her that she blinked and looked around. Miss Honey had risen to her knees and now rested her head on the child’s shoulder. "No, Matilda, please - you mustn't."

"Mustn't what?" Matilda asked, her voice sounding very far away to her own ears.

"You mustn't…kill her." Miss Honey whispered.

Matilda looked down at the woman lying prone on the landing below, and felt a seething hatred coursing through her veins. "Why not? She's evil, completely evil. No one would have to know, it would look like an accident."

"That's not the point," said Miss Honey, placing a gentle hand on Matilda's chin and turning her head so that the child no longer stared down at her prey. "What she is doesn't matter. It's what you are - are you the sort of person to take a life, to commit murder, even of such a horrible person as Ms. Trunchbull? Can you really judge who is fit to live and who deserves to die?"

As Miss Honey spoke, Matilda felt her rage fading into a soft and steady burn at the edge of her consciousness. As she gradually became more and more aware of her surroundings she realized that Miss Honey was shaking. The red line from the Trunchbull's nail still stood out against her pale skin, and Matilda felt a lump in her throat as she ran a finger along the mark. "Don't you want her dead, Miss Honey? After everything she's done for all these years?"

Miss Honey sighed. "No, Matilda. I don't want her dead. I just want her far away from me, and from anyone else she might try to harm."

She fell silent, looking weary and older than Matilda had ever seen her. A glimmer of fear awoke within Matilda as she held her teacher close. "If you don't want me to kill her, then I won't, I promise. But are you alright? Did she…"

Miss Honey smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. But we should get out of here, before she wakes up."

Matilda nodded, helping the older woman to her feet. Together they made their way down the stairs, Matilda holding tight to Miss Honey's hand. They shivered as they stepped over the Trunchbull's prone form, and walked quickly out the front door of the house and down the driveway. On the way home to Matilda's house both were very quiet, but as they reached the Wormwood home Matilda turned to her teacher, looking up at Miss Honey with a grave expression. "Thank you for stopping me, Miss Honey. I still want to see the Trunchbull dead, but I know now that you wouldn't like it, and also I would hate to never see you again if the police got me." 

Miss Honey smiled and hugged her little student. "One day I hope you'll understand why I stopped you. But I, too, would be loath to have you taken away from me."

Matilda nodded firmly. "Then it's settled. We'll stick together, and between the two of us we'll stop the Trunchbull for good."

Letting go of Miss Honey's hand, she marched purposefully up the stairs to her front door, letting herself in and closing the door quietly behind her. Miss Honey looked after her with a wistful smile on her face. "I hope so, Matilda," she murmured, "I truly hope so."


End file.
